


forgotten

by kanaes (irltooru)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Childhood, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Sad, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8457076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irltooru/pseuds/kanaes
Summary: It was during one of Avery’s fantastic escapades that we met. Our meeting came from out of nowhere, a chance encounter, perhaps. Either way, we clicked instantly. After a few delightful hours of playing house and digging up small Kinder egg toys he’d buried a few weeks ago, we seemed to bond in a way that no other kids his age could. We knew each other like flowers knew the soil they grew in. He seemed about as excited as a four-year-old boy could possibly get after making a new friend, rushing immediately to his mother (who was lounging, half-awake, nearby) and shaking her awake. He then proceeded to introduce me the best he could with his limited vocabulary, all the while grinning from ear to ear.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsaNoya_Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsaNoya_Trash/gifts).



> this is intended to be a very short story with a very ambiguous interpretation.

Avery was four years old when we first met. He was, for lack of better words, a “bundle of joy”. Everything about him seemed sunny, from his bright blue eyes to the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his tiny nose. His honey-brown hair was always springy and ruffled, unruly despite his mother’s best attempts to tame it. His personality at four years of age was synonymous with his appearance, too. He was wild in the best way, choosing to spend most of his summer afternoons romping around the spacious yard, soaking up the last rays of sunlight, playing pretend by himself.

It was during one of Avery’s fantastic escapades that we met. Our meeting came from out of nowhere, a chance encounter, perhaps. Either way, we clicked instantly. After a few delightful hours of playing house and digging up small Kinder egg toys he’d buried a few weeks ago, we seemed to bond in a way that no other kids his age could. We knew each other like flowers knew the soil they grew in. He seemed about as excited as a four-year-old boy could possibly get after making a new friend, rushing immediately to his mother (who was lounging, half-awake, nearby) and shaking her awake. He then proceeded to introduce me the best he could with his limited vocabulary, all the while grinning from ear to ear. His mom smiled and nodded slowly and then promptly returned to her previous state without greeting me even once, and I must admit that I was a little hurt by that.

Avery liked me a lot because I looked similar to his dad when he was a small child, as he learned from a photo his dad had shown him a day ago. He also liked me because I liked everything _he_ liked, from cats to _Star Wars,_ even though neither of us had ever watched the movies because his dad said they were too violent for a toddler. We would spend hours sparring each other and his mom would watch from the window, amused, as her little boy swung a mini light-up plastic lightsaber with gusto.

I think Avery liked _Star Wars_ because his dad liked it. I’m not sure, but I know I liked it too.

I was also there on Avery’s fifth birthday party. Apparently his parents weren’t aware that I was invited, so they didn’t prepare an extra place. Avery waved his small hands in the air and attempted to pull up another chair immediately, all the while pouting cutely at mom and dad for forgetting his best friend. He asked me to blow out the candles with him, and asked his mom to cut me a big slice of cake. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but obliged anyway.

I was delighted, and told him that lemon cake was my absolute favourite.

We played together the whole year after that. I was there with him when he needed me to be. I was his best friend, his comrade, and I understood him the best. I was there on his last day of preschool and his first day of kindergarten. We went through everything together.

On the second day of grade one, Avery was optimistic, and so was I. We walked to school together, him, his mom, and me. Even though I was a few years older than Avery, I attended his classes because he wanted me to be there with him. I asked him if it was okay with his teacher. Mrs. Kernighan said it was absolutely fine, but we couldn’t set up another chair at a table just for me since I wasn’t registered on the class list. But this was okay, because it meant that I was allowed to lounge on the sofa in the corner of the classroom, the sofa meant for the “special student of the day.” Avery smiled at this news and said that I was the _special student of the day._

Everything was going well until Megan, the _actual_ “special student of the day”, plopped herself down on the couch during carpet time, and Avery began to wail.

Mrs. Kernighan made him go stand in the hallway until he could calm down, and he took my hand and asked me to go with him. I assured him that it was okay, that I didn’t mind not sitting in the couch. I knew he really wanted me to be special. So when we went back into the classroom, I sat on the carpet with him and everyone else.

His seventh birthday rolled around, and I came late to the party. He’d already finished blowing out the candles by the time I showed up. I got a smaller slice, but I think that’s because Avery wanted more for himself and I respected that. After all, it was his birthday and he was another year older. It was still lemon cake, thank goodness. My favourite.

It was after the first few weeks of third grade that I stopped going to school with him. It’s not that I didn’t want to; Avery asked me not to, because some girls in his class said that he was too old to have friends like me. I didn’t understand this, because I was older than Avery. Nevertheless, since he was my best friend, I let him have his way. I pretended I didn’t feel jealous when he came home late because he had a play date with one of his new friends, Daniel. It was okay, though, because when he lay in bed at night, we would have lengthy conversations in the dark.

I don’t think I was invited to his eighth birthday party, but I came anyway. Since I wasn’t invited, he hadn’t waited for me to blow out the candles, nor did they have enough cake to go around (there were about 20 of his classmates). I guess I was okay with that, though, since it wasn’t lemon cake this time. I think Avery started liking chocolate cake because the girl he has a crush on likes chocolate cake. I don’t think she came to the party, either.

I’m not sure when fourth grade started, since Avery didn’t tell me. He barely talks to me nowadays. I would even go to lengths to say that he was ignoring me, but it seemed like he was ignoring the fact that he was ignoring me. What was that word called, again?

Sixth grade, and I was missing him. I wanted to play in the rain. I wanted to bury cheap plastic toys. I wanted to have a lightsaber duel to the death. All with Avery. Instead, I’m floating. Without Avery, it felt like my own life had no meaning. After all, I liked the things that Avery liked, but without Avery around telling me what he liked, I had no idea how to be myself anymore.

Tenth grade, and how is Avery? _I don’t know._

Twelfth, and I don’t know who I am.

Avery stands on that stage, resplendent in cap and gown. Suddenly, I remember the word.

_Forgotten._

He’s forgotten me.

**Author's Note:**

> what do you think? let me know what your interpretations/theories are.


End file.
